Bottle Shock
by Kuro The Dark Ringmaster
Summary: Inspired by the 2008 film "Bottle Shock" with a modern twist. William is an Englishman in a French world, with his small wine shop in Paris under the threat of going bankrupt he decides to do something out of desperation, go to the States in search of wine, which can rival the French and Californians. His state of choice? New York. Ronald/William pre "A Taste of Heaven in Hell."
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: As a response to all of my readers who had been following "A Taste of Heaven in Hell," hungrily. I thought it would be fun to tell Ronald and William's story before we get to England and the introduction of Sebastian. This story was inspired by the 2008 film "Bottle Shock." It's a fun film so you will see parallels, however it's not entirely the same. I hope you enjoy this series as we explore the elegance of a glass of wine and the strife which goes along with it._

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"_**Wine is sunlight, held together by water"**_

**-Galileo Galei**

**Prologue:**

There is a certain romance when it comes to wine, it's as though the venire has managed to capture the sun, rain, soil and soul in a single bottle. The sun of the season caressing each vine as it crests the hill before making her trip across the sky. The ceremony of popping the cork from a beautiful green glass bottles, the emancipation of a bouquet which teases the tongue and ensnares the senses, and even stop time if only for a moment. Just the right wine can make a meal sing, the wrong one can destroy it and sometimes it may seem extraneous. The perfect wine is much like the perfect gem, nearly impossible to find, yet sought after by many.

On a small street in Paris, just past a book seller is a small shop with dark windows and no awning. The building it's self is a cool gray with an oak door, the same weathered color as the barrels in which wine is aged. The door handle is a smooth and cool brass, the windows have been cleaned and are streak free with a small sign that hands in the window proclaiming it open. The larger window has gold letters across it proclaiming it _L' Academy du Vin_, shimmering in the light above the name William T. Spears, Sommelier, just bellow in script. Several empty bottles and miniature barrels rest on the sill of the window, all clear of dust. A set of wine glasses resting near a unlabeled bottle are near a vase which is surrounded by silk.

At the counter leaning over the morning paper with bright green eyes, combed to perfection hair, in a three piece suit with tie is none other than the shop's owner. A pair of thick black rectangular glasses rest on his nose. A cup of tea sits steeping off to his left as he sighs and looked over the titles in the paper. A sigh escapes his lips as he hears the distant click of the minute hand making its perpetual trip around the face of the clock. The walls behind him are lined from wall to ceiling with wine racks covered in bottles. There is a small counter which is polished to perfection and a series of red and white wine glasses resting in glass cabinets. Several high stools line one side of the table while only his stool resides on the other. Blindly the young man reaches for his tea cup and brings it to his lips, the ticking of the clock is the only sound which can be heard, other than the occasional rustle of the paper as he turned the pages. The faint smell of wine can be detected, not as potent as the tea which has been steeping for hours, but close.

Oddly, in this shop, early in the morning, is where we begin.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: A Sheppard's Invisible Flock**

Every morning started with the same ritual, one which seemed as though it had been tested by time, William would wake to the loud screech which was interrupted by a loud bang and a groan as he slammed his hand on top of the alarm clock. Large red number illuminated the dark room, proclaiming it to be half past six. A groan emanated from the bed as the Sommelier roused and slowly stretched his arms over his head. His body was rather lean and he sighed as he scratched his head lazily. William was just a little over thirty, thirty-two to be precise, other than the odd gray hair and his usually sleepy looking green eyes he was easy on the eyes. He wouldn't be what most classified as handsome, but he wasn't plain either. He had a pair of striking green eyes which set him apart from the rest, they closely resembled to color of a green wine bottle. His black hair was a mess as usual in the morning, with the heals of his hands he slowly rubbed the sleep away, his mind was still slightly fuzzy. After a moment he blindly reached for his glasses and slipped them onto his nose, he hummed as the world became clearer.

The bed groaned a slightly as he slipped off of the full sized bed and wandered to the bathroom in only his boxers. By seven he was standing before the mirror, his hair dried and tamed, a pristinely pressed white dress shirt on, a pair of navy blue and silver pinstripe slacks and had his shirt collared popped up as he slipped on an emerald green tie. The sound of silk caressing it's self filled the room as he tightened the Windsor knot and then slipped into the matching vest. There were several elements of importance with a Sommelier. The first was that they always dressed to impress their job was to be an authority on wine, its quality, its layers of flavor, process and the pairings which were ideal. He slipped into the matching coat and soon left his apartment, brief case in hand and took a short walk to his shop.

The streets were void of pedestrians, then again it had been rather early, he always opened his shop at nine in the morning. The keys jingled on the ring as he slowly produced them from his pocket and selected a long golden key. In moments he had the door open and was entering the dark shop, off to the side was an electronic security system and he hummed, after a moment he had the pin in and was disarming it. Before he would have never bothered with such a nuance of a devise, however now he didn't seem to have a choice. There were more break ins in shops than there had been before and since the cheapest bottle in his stores was just above 110 Euro, he didn't have an choice. The world wasn't as simple as it had once been.

William turned on the lights and began his usual track through the store toward the cave which he had beneath the store. All of the bottles had to be dusted, the glasses washed and shined, the counter ready and several bottles selected to be opened. By the time he had finished it was nine. With a sigh he flipped the sign from closed to open and waited. He hummed as he picked up the paper he had abandoned the day before, it was Friday, and yet it felt like just another day. The bell rang loudly at eleven and he jumped to attention, only to find his usual customer, Alois. The Sommelier sighed and rubbed his temples, "Good morning," he groaned.

The blonde turned to him and arched a brow, Alois was young and honestly had very little knowledge of wine, actually truth be told, the blonde knew next to nothing about it. He perused the racks as always, "My uncle is trying to convince me to go home, I'm going to raid your cellar by the way" Alois said smoothly as he strode across the shop and opened the large door which lead to the bottom floor of the building. William pushed himself off the stool and walked over to stand in the doorway and looked down the stairs as Alois turned on a low lamp. "Why don't you?" he called wondering just why the blonde had brought this to his attention. "Why don't I what?" he called as he slowly perused the racks bellow until he spotted something he was interested in. "Go home," said William curtly as he leaned in the doorway and crossed his legs. His toes rested against the floor and he hummed as he then crossed his arms. "Simple, he's there," he replied.

William sighed, he had forgotten about the deep seeded hatred between Alois and his uncle. After the young man's parents had died, his uncle was asked to care for all of the estates, while Alois was American, his uncle was very English, and naturally had set several rules for him, all of which Alois blatantly ignored. In fact, he made a hobby of breaking them. Alois came up the stairs with a familiar bottle in hand, "Do we have to chill it?" he asked as he walked over to the counter. William adjusted his glasses with his fingers, "Do you even remember the serving temperature of that bottle?" he asked with irritation as he walked over to the counter and looked at the blonde who looked like he honestly didn't care, that wasn't much of a surprise to William, more of an irritating detail. "Think about it, the cellar is 15 and a half degrees (1)," he stated simply as he looked at the bottle, "This is a merlot, the serving temperature is?" he asked curtly.

Alois shrugged and replied, "I drink it, I don't serve it," he stated as he pointed at the Sommelier who looked at the finger as though it were the most insulting thing in his life and scowled. "The correct answer is an ideal 17.7 degrees(2), which means the bottle must sit out for twenty minutes to reach serving temperature and then must breath for another half hour," he stated as he looked at the blonde. Alois stared at William and groaned, "Perhaps I'll just call you next time I want a drink," he groaned. The Sommelier crossed his arms and shook his head, he wasn't a bartender, he was a Sommelier, and that was something far more sophisticated. "Californian," he spat with venom.

"A 94 Château Trotanoy 2004 Pomerol, interesting choice," he commented. In moments he had the corkscrew in hand as the blonde took a seat across from him. "I felt like something other than Chardonnay," he replied as William slipped the corkscrew into the tan cork and pulled it free with ease. The bottle's rich aroma filled the air causing the Sommelier's lips to quirk up into his trade mark grin. No matter how many bottles he opened he always enjoyed the feeling of pulling the cork free of her constraints and allowing the bottle to breathe. He place the bottle on the counter as he looked at the two glasses, "A wonderful selection for a special dinner," he commented. Alois was silent as he watched Williams's fingers caress the bottle with care. "It's a 90 merlot, 10 Cabernet Frac. A powerhouse wine, packed with black fruits and dark tannins, a full bodied and absolutely stunning merlot, despite the fact that it's a Christian Moueix," he stated with care before leaving the bottle to rest on the counter. Alois' jaw was agape; clearly he had forgotten what William's real occupation was. He smirked after a moment before remarking, "Yes I still know every bottle in my cellar."

Alois rolled his eyes and hummed, "My uncle is a real prick sometimes," he commented off handedly. William sighed and looked at him, of course he was irritated, his uncle was popular in political circles across Europe and had probably asked for his nephew to stop drifting from place to place and finally settle. "What is it this time?" asked William curiously as he crossed his legs and rested his hands on his lap. "Easy, he wants me to marry some Dutchess and have kids," he replied. That on its own was frightening, he could only imagine the chaos which would ensue as the wayward blonde bartender and limousine service owner attempted to reign in his children. He shook his head after a moment, it was far too chaotic for even him to imagine. "Haven't you told him?" asked William slowly as he ventured into dangerous waters, "Told him what?" he asked after a moment. "Alois, playing dumb just isn't your thing," he commented as he picked up his paper and folded it small enough so he could stash it away.

"That I'm gay? No, why would I?" he asked after a moment. William remained silent as he waited for the young man to rant, "Honestly it's none of his business my orientation," he stated irritably. The Sommelier closed his eyes and sighed, "Of course it isn't, however, it would stop him from matching you to a woman in an attempt to get you married," he reminded the blonde. The young man straightened in his seat, his azure eyes narrowed as he flipped a stray blond hair behind him, "I'll tell you what, I'll come out of the closet if you do," he stated with a icy smile. The Sommelier had known about his attraction to men for years, however he didn't publicize it, he hadn't found anyone that tickled his fancy in years. Paris was filled with beautiful people and yet none of them were as radiant as he hoped, they were all gnarled on the inside and wrapped up in themselves. "Honestly, Alois? This is serious, one phone call and you could end his constant medaling, it's not like it's a crime you know," he commented, there was a long pause which filled the room; obviously he had struck a chord.

"So what's your philosophy?" asked Alois after a moment. William arched a dark brow in confusion for a moment before asking, "My philosophy on?" he asked slowly, dragging out the last word to emphasize his irritation. Alois was never as articulate as he wished, he was often vague and in his circles it would drive any sophisticated man insane. "On wine, you know? You're a sommelier, clearly there is a reason you chose to do what you do," he stated. The dark haired man was taken aback for a moment and then glanced at his wrist watch, they had a while and perhaps this was the best way to pass time. "Wine is an art which is honestly under appreciated," he stated, "Roddan used bronze, Debussy the piano, Monet paint, well vinyers use the grape." He said simply as he looked at the bottle and then to the glasses, "I am in essence a Sheppard showing others the beauty of an art which is often under appreciated and over looked," he said with a warm smile.

Alois hummed, "A Sheppard by definition has a flock, and a business by default needs customers," he stated. William stared, he didn't think Alois would have anything remotely insightful to say, even if it was slightly insulting. He looked down at his watch and noticed time had passed as he slipped his hand around the bottle, he could tell it was finally at serving temperature. Alois watched patiently as the Sommelier worked his magic and freed the cork using a cork screw. They sat on the dark counter, waiting patiently for the bottle to be uncorked. The bouquet filled the room effortlessly, it was rich and far more layered than his black cup of earl gray. There was silence as he contemplated Alois' words, minutes passed and he realized that he had left Alois in silence, it was nearly time to serve the wine. "And if I was to adhere to that philosophy?" he asked slowly and paused as his eyes wandered to the bottle, he had to let it breath. "What would you be considered? A Customer?" he sneered after a moment. There was a pause as the young man smiled deviously, William picked up the bottle and poured the dark red wine into a pair of red wine glasses. Alois slipped his fingers around the stem and lifted it before responding, "No, I would be considered an applicant," before taking a sip of the full bodied merlot. William grumbled and as he swirled the merlot in his glass, he watched the red liquid caress the walls of the glass and looked for sediment, he didn't think he would have to, but it was getting close to the wine's ten year mark. He hummed before taking a sip, the wine hit his tongue and made him melt, now he remembered why he had purchased a case of this vintage. He gently sloshed it in his mouth as his palate picked up the low notes and it moved toward the back of his tongue. Before he could swallow he turned his attention to the silver basin and spit it into it. Alois swallowed and cringed, "Why do you do that?" he asked curiously. William sighed as his green eyes fell on the glass, "It's still opening hours, I don't need to get drunk at eleven in the morning," he commented.

Alois snorted and rolled his eyes, "It's not like you're going to see anyone else come in here today," he commented. William's eyes narrowed as he shot the young man a warning glare. "Don't go there," he hissed. Alois grinned into his glass and commented, "Too late."


	3. Chapter 2

_Here we go Chapter 2, you're going to see some familiar faces appear. Fo those of you who aren't aware this is a Spin Off from my other story "A Taste of Heaven in Hell" meaning all of the character will still be in the same role as hat story. Also if you've been paying attenion you'll see certain chef leave the buidling and run into another. Claude and Seastin aren't together in this one. I hope you enjoy William's struggle in France becau it's only bound to get more interestingwhen he flys to the stated. _

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**Chapter 2: Changes & an Idea**

As Alois had predicted the shop remained deafeningly quiet, which only added to the irritation which William had felt since their previous encounter. He hummed as he folded the new copy of the paper and tossed it in the ever growing stack behind the counter; he honestly hated it when the blonde was right. He did, however, have something to look forward to, a tasting. If there was anything which could aid the sulking sommelier, it was a wine tasting in which several bottles were selected and he was asked to give his opinion on them. Anyone and everyone who was a Sommelier or a wine enthusiast attended, making it a wonderful gathering of men, women and professionals who came to simply taste wine. William hummed with delight as he left the shop with brief case in hand and made his way to the small, yet prestigious, restaurant that had been selected to host the tasting.

The street outside of it was bustling with people waiting to be seated, if there was one thing a Parisian couldn't turn down, it was a decent glass of wine. William took his place at the back of the line, his eyes fell on the midnight blue awning over the entryway. It was the place to be and William had purchased a ticket for a table two weeks in advance, he was honestly excited to see what new flavors the people of France were embracing in their wines. He walked up to the waiter standing at the reservation desk. "Bonjour _Monsieur_, how may I help you?" he asked with a smile, which honestly churned William's stomach. Immediately the waiter knew to use English, which meant things weren't going to go his way. If there was anything he couldn't stand it was the rivalry between the French and English, honestly it got in the way of a bulk of his business. "Yes I reserved a table here, my name is William Spears, the owner of _L'Academie du Vin_" he said smoothly. The young man glanced at the page and grimaced, obviously William's accent was going to sink him as it always did in wine circles.

"I'm sorry sir, we don't have a reservation under that name," he replied smoothly, even though he had simply glanced. William felt irritation wash over him, only in France did they do this to the English. "I assure you I have a reservation, I made it two weeks ago," William stated sternly, his voice was deadly low as he attempted to contain his anger. There was a shuffle behind the young man as the manager appeared, he was also dressed in a tux and asked, "What's the problem?" The waiter turned to the man and replied, "_Apparemment, cet Anglais a fait une réservation pour la dégustation du vin. (1)" _William became even more irritated, he honestly thought the French did this just to keep people they believed to keep them in the dark, he began to sift through his pockets as he located the receipt. "_J'ai réservé une table il ya deux semaines pour cet événement, il a été payé_, (2)" William replied with a hint of malice, his French rolled off his tongue gracefully as he spoke and then showed the neatly pressed receipt to the manager, "_Voir?(3)_" The manager looked at the page and hummed, it indeed had the date and signature of the waiter who had taken the reservation at the bottom as well as the statement that he had paid for the seat. "Pardon me, please this way," said the waiter after the manager had whispered something into his ear.

William entered the dimly lit restaurant and noticed all of the Sommeliers with glasses before them, examining each wine with great care as they took notes and remarked with one another on the taste and maturity of the wine, more often than not predicting when it would be the best time to open the bottle. He honestly wasn't paying attention to the waiter until he noticed a table by the door which lead to the kitchen. He sighed after realizing what had probably happened, he had been the last one invited and therefore got the worst seat. He took a seat at the table and watched as the waiter vanished to bring the four bottles which were premiering that evening. The waiter returned with a tray holding all four samples, he watched as the young man set them before him with the card as to which glasses were to what bottle. William nodded and looked at the card, he was about to pick up a glass when the door opened and roughly jostled the table. His eyes widened as he stared at the shaking glasses, honestly he should have known they would put him on the side where the door opened.

A moment passed as the raven haired Sommelier reached for yet another glass, only for the door to open abruptly and smack into the table, causing it to slide a bit. Instinctively William held the bases of the glasses with his hand and watched as the wine sloshed in them. He groaned internally as he picked up his pen, only for the door to once again open. Now he was irritated and scowled angrily at the door, after he had placed his hands on the wine glass bases. He dropped his pen loudly on the table and picked up another glass only for the table to be hit again with the door, this time nearly knocking his arm. He groaned and rolled his eyes, he was never going to be able to concentrate to taste the wines. He counted backward from ten in greek before catching the door with his palm to prevent it from hitting the table.

This was going to be a long tasting; he sighed as he slipped his fingers around a stem and took a sip of a beautiful merlot. Instinctively he closed his eyes and savored the taste as it traveled backward on his tongue. It played on the tip of his tongue merrily as he swallowed; it was a full bodied wine with a kiss of cedar from the barrel. William shot a glare at the door as he waited for it to open once again, only to be surprised that he could actually enjoy a sip of the wine before the door came crashing into the side of the table again to jostle the glasses.

Several days had passed after the tasting and William was more irritated than ever, he hadn't sold a bottle of wine in a while and knew his shop was going to suffer if he didn't. Yet, sitting at the counter was Alois. He was looking at a glass of chardonnay and smiled with glee as he smelt it. "It's oaky and smoky, I detect," he muttered into the glass and William glared with irritation, "A hint of bacon fat," he commented. He pinched his fingers and stated, "Laced with honey melon." William watched as Alois knocked the glass back and was about to reach for another sample. The Sommelier was swift snatched the bottles and held it to his chest to keep the bottle out of the blonde's reach. Azure eyes glassed over in confusion as he looked at the bottle that was cradled in his hand. "I have to make some changes," announced William as he glared daggers at Alois.

"Why?" asked Alois as he sat up at attention now, obviously William had struck a chord. "Why? this is a business Alois," he sneered, "I have to sell the wine." His voice was low and he glared at the blonde whose arms were crossed and he tilted his head to the side. "You know what your problem is? You call your shop _L'Academie du Vin_, but had you looked at your inventory?" Alois asked hotly as he gestured to the bottles around the room with his hands. "You have eight bottle of wine from Spain and the rest are all French, you mind as well call this the _Academie du vin en Frances_," he stated. William was silent for a moment and stared at Alois, he hadn't thought of it that way. "You know, I was reading an article the other day that stated soon New York wines will rival those of the French and Californians," he stated. William looked at him in confusion, the notion itself was preposterous, everyone drank French, Californian, Spanish and a few German wines which Alois had blatantly missed. "Forgive me Alois but I can't see the Brooklyn Vine becoming popular anytime soon," he stated coolly.

Alois grit his teeth and stated, "I'm from Napa, and yes I have friends in Manhattan. Look you need to expand your repertoire." William sighed and looked at the bottle in his hands, "Come with me, you need to see something," he stated as he walked out of the shop and jogged across the street. William was by his side after a moment and crossed his arms before asking, "What am I supposed to be looking at?" The blonde smiled and looked at the two shops, "Our shops, see the issue? Which would you notice, mine or yours?" he asked with a hint of mirth. Alois' shop was covered in advertisements and had a bright sign declaring it a limo service. While William's simply had gold letters on the window and a few decorations behind the glass. "Well it depends really, on whether you are looking for a bottle of wine or a tour of the city," he defended. He honestly thought Alois' shop looked repulsive. "Yet it's my business Monsieur Tari seeks, not yours," he stated.

William paused and stared at the blonde, "Monsieur Tari, as in the Secretary of the Council of Sommeliers, Tari?" he asked in confusion. He had no idea how the blonde had him as a client and he didn't. A grin of triumph spread over the young man's lips making William feel child like jealousy bubble up inside him. Tari was one of the most respected names in the business, if a bottle was approved by him, chances were it would see quickly and be popular in a matter of hours. The number of followers he had was in the millions, which made him even more envious. "Where is he?" he asked slowly, he suddenly had an idea. It was a long shot, but if he could manage it he would come out on top with the latest wines. "Why?" asked Alois after a moment. William merely smiled and replied with ease, "I have a plan."

Alois was quiet for a moment before a smile swept across his lips, "I'll tell you," he stated as he sauntered back across the street, "If you pour me another glass." William's eyes narrowed as always the blonde was going to put him in a tight spot, even if he disliked it. "One glass!" shouted William as he crossed the street, he'd be damned if the blonde didn't give him the information.

~~vVv~~

After a short conversation with Alois, William finally had the information, and was now standing outside of a little cafe called Intrigue, it was small and rather quaint. Yet he of all people knew it was the smaller shops which had the best selection of wine. His green eyes peered into the dimly lit space, he had to do this, if he didn't he would be in quite a bit of trouble. Sitting toward the center with a bottle of merlot out was none other than Monsiour Tari, if he could sway the fellow Sommelier he could do anything, now all he had to do was pitch his idea and pray he wouldn't be laughed out of the cafe. This in theory would be easy if it weren't for the slight snag that he was younger and British, two things that the French couldn't stand. He drew a deep breath before pushing open the glass door, only to be met immediately by an anxious waiter who was clearly sharking for tips. "May I help you sir?" he asked sweetly, with a note of hospitality which reminded him eerily of an air stewardess. "No, I'm here to see one of your guests and there he is," William said with ease as he slipped by the waiter and strode toward the middle aged man.

Monsieur Tari had grayed a bit and was slowly balding since they had first met, his face was covered with deep set wrinkles and he put on a fair amount of weight since they met three years ago. His wedding band glistened in the light as he lifted the bottle and poured himself another glass. "Monsieur Tari?" asked William nervously as he stood before the man, a pair of icy gray eyes lifted from the wine glass and fell on him, "_Oui_?" he asked curiously, he arched a brow and tilted his head to the side, it was more than apparent that the man was evaluating William. "Is that a bottle of Château Le Bon Pasteur 2004 Pomerol?" he asked curiously. Monsieur Tari nodded and looked at William suspiciously, "Isn't' it a bit too soon to open that?" he asked curiously. There was a pause as Monsieur Tari sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. "Oh? When would you open it?" he asked smoothly. William smiled, he had this and he knew it, "After another year, it needs time to mature I would go as far to say even another five years," he mused with a grin.

Tari sighed and looked at William, "I think I'll enjoy it now, you like them old, I like them young, now please leave, Monsieur?" he asked sharply, William had a feeling that his name was about to be added to the special list of people who weren't invited to tasting because their names happened to fall off the list due to limited seating accommodations. "Spears, William T. Spears, I only need a moment," he said simply as he attempted to take a seat at the table, only for the man to shake his head. "No you may not," he stated before waving his hand to shoo him away. William sighed and looked at him, obviously this was going far worse than he thought it would. "Monsieur, I have a proposition for you," he said simply. Tari looked up and huffed, before waving him on, "I would like to hold a blind wine tasting comparing New York wines to French ones," he said after a moment. There was silence, those icy gray eyes held a spark and a smile curved the man's lips. "Oh?" he asked. William nodded and looked at him, "I see, Spears that you are finally interested in branching out," Tari stated and grinned, "You will donate 600 Eruos (5) to the Association and then you can have not only myself but a whole board sommelier at your disposal."

William stared at the man, the price was high and it was bad enough he was risking his skin, his shop was dangling by a thread. Yet here was the one way out, the light at the end of the tunnel that could save him, "Alright, will you take a check?" he asked as he reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed his personal checkbook, he had the funds but not much, it was a risk that he was willing to take. Tari smiled as William opened the leather covered checkbook with a pen and clicked it.

~~vVv~~

William sighed as he caught up with Alois, there was no going back now. The blonde turned and smiled, his azure eyes were filled with curiosity as he spoke. His small hands were twisting with excitement and William replied, "Well he took it, after I gave him 600 Euros and stated that I would spend two weeks in the States to select the wines." Alois stared at the Sommelier as though as he were insane, "What the hell! Why did you have to pay into it?" he asked with irritation. William drew a deep breath and sighed, "Simple, he's getting the other sommeliers, leaving me to make all of the other things," he replied. Alois hummed and nodded, even though he could tell it made little sense to the blonde, it was a step closer to salvaging what was left of his shop. "We need press coverage," the blonde stated. William paused and looked at him, a smile swept across his face, at least he wasn't being left to his own devices. It would have been infinitely worse if he was. "Naturally, any ideas?" he asked curiously. Alois hummed and crossed his arms, he was wearing the look William knew too well, he was mentally searching his little black book. Chances were the man had slept with the reporter before. "Yes, one, I have to talk to him first," he replied slowly.

William merely nodded and looked at his watch, "I have to go, I'm meeting with Fairchild today, he said he had something for me before I left," he stated. Alois nodded and smiled, "Oh that hunk of a chef from New York, guaranteed he knows all the good spots, ask him for a list of a few decent vineyards," the blonde said with glee. William hummed, for once he was being helpful, a rare event in the case of one Alois Trancy. William nodded as he strode down the street, he had closed his shop for the afternoon, at this point it didn't matter if he did or didn't, he had no customers, besides the chef sounded rather sincere. William rounded the corner and began to walk to an all too familiar building with the large blue seal of Le Cordon Bleu on the door. He reached for one of the doors only to jump back in surprise when a beauty opened it. He stared at the tall young man with raven black hair and a pair of mesmerising red eyes, a cookbook for a pastry course was in his hands, year two from the look of the cover. His noble cheek bones and beautifully set lips were a dead give away to the chef, "Sorry," the young man muttered as he ducked his head and stepped out of William's way. "Have a good day Michaelis," said William warmly as he walked into the foyer, the Patissier smiled and replied, "Thank you," before darting away. William sighed, that young man was a favorite of the pastry world, and yet he acted like a servant, it was odd. He shook his head as he began to walk toward the kitchens, the chef was experimenting again. His footsteps echoed in the now empty halls as he continued down a familiar path.

He paused outside of the door and looked in to see the familiar profile of Claude Fairchild. A pair of rectangular silver frames rested on his nose providing a barrier between his gaze and the duck he was preparing. William watched silently as the knife in the man's hand slipped easily through the meat and made precise slices. He smiled as he looked at the man's black hair and square jaw, the only features which connected Claude to his father. "Fairchild," said William causing the chef to look up at him and nod. No matter how many times William visited the chef he always felt the need to ask permission to enter. He walked over to the station which, Claude was working tirelessly at, there was a stool waiting for him as always and a cup of steaming Earl Grey Tea. The Sommelier took his usual perch and watched as the chef continued to work, "How did it go?" asked Claude as he began to bread the duck in seasoned crumbs which had clearly been mixed by himself. His long fingers held the duck breast with ease as he coated it in crumbs. "Rather well, all things considered," William remarked, which wasn't a total lie. Claude hummed and commented, "Don't believe you." William sat there and stared at Claude, he had forgotten that the chef was practically a human lie detector. The Sommelier slouched a touch and leaned on the counter, ignoring that it was covered in breadcrumbs at the moment, "Okay, it went terribly but I did manage to get him to agree to allow my tasting to occur," he said slowly as his green eyes locked on the cup before him. "But, you have to pay a fee" Claude urged, he could hear the doubt in the man's voice. One of these days William was going to figure out just how the hell Claude knew these things, it was uncanny really.

William nodded and groaned after realizing that he only had 60 Euros (6) to his name now, it wasn't a comforting feeling. Out of the corner of his eye he noted that the chef's hands had stopped moving. "William, please tell me you didn't give that man practically every cent you had," Claude urged, there was a hint of irritation in his voice. The chef would have figured it out eventually, William nodded once again and looked up to see a pair of molten gold eyes boring into him, he was desperate and this might be his only chance to save his shop and himself. Claude sighed as he placed his knife on the cutting board and crossed his arms, William could tell that there was a sneer on the tip of the man's tongue. "Honestly Spears, what were you thinking?" growled Claude. William glared at the man he didn't want to get a lecture from the infamous Claude Fairchild, the man wasn't even using his real name. "That its my last chance to save my shop, I can't afford to lose it," he stated angrily, "I'm not going to roll over and play dead while the bank knocks on my door asking for my mortgage payments and threatening to take not only the property but it's contents as well."

The yellow slip from the day before was fresh in his mind, he was in trouble and knew it. Claude closed his eyes for a moment, "Okay Alois only mentioned part of this, what is your entire plan?" he asked. William replied hastily, "To prove that it's not only the French who can make a decent wine and give New York a shot." Claude's golden eyes flickered open at that commented and he stared in shock at the Sommelier, William was well aware of the fact that everyone drank French, Californian and Spanish Wines, no one drank those of New York. A smile curled the chef's lips, "New York, and when were you going to tell me?" asked Claude as he leaned on the counter behind him. William looked at the chef in confusion, he had almost forgotten that Claude was a New Yorker at heart. "I thought Alois told you," William replied after a moment. Claude shook his head and pulled out his black Motorola razr flip phone. "He didn't," he said simply, William watched the chef quickly tap out a message. William felt a wave of curiosity wash over him, "Okay, here's the deal, my father's been bugging me to come home and I really don't want to. So I'm sending you! All you have to do is confirm that I'm not dead and I'm doing fine here in Paris, and I'll pay for your trip, rental car and hotel," he stated simply, "hell I'll even pay for your food too."

William's mouth popped open, he wasn't expecting that kind of offer, "What?" he stammered. Claude groaned and looked at him, "Look I'm not going home yet, all you have to do is tell him I'm alright, have dinner with him if you must. Just get him to stop calling me," the man ranted. Part of the Sommelier had forgotten just how old Claude was and who his father was, Claude was 21, a young man who had run away from his rich and powerful father Lucius Faustus, a power player in New York. William chuckled, he was turning 26 soon, he had forgotten what it was like to deal with parents who wouldn't let you even walk out of the house on your own, yet alone live across the sea. William held out his hand and said firmly, "Deal." Claude grinned broadly as he took the man's hand, "So how much do you need?" asked Claude as he released William's hand and returned to his dish. William lifted the cup to his lips and took a soothing sip of tea, perhaps today wasn't as bad as he thought.

~~vVv~~

The sun sparked the hills, the summer sun hung high in the sky over a sea of vines. The smell of the grape was in the air and the chatter of men tending the vines filled the air. The soil was warm between the men's fingers as they wore broad hands to shield their eyes from the sun. However one voice rang above all the others, "Were the hell is he?" it intoned. There was silence in the group as all the men looked up. Standing red faced with green eyes narrowed was the all too familiar face of the vineyard owner, Harold Knox. His blond hair ruffled in the breeze as he glared at all of the men standing around him. "Who?" asked a blond standing before him with broad shoulders and a tee shirt on, there was a pair of tinted blue lenses on his nose. He was taller than Harold but spoke softly. His hazel eyes were filled with confusion, "My useless son," he replied. The man sighed and replied, "Sick, he wasn't feeling well this morning," he replied. Harold groaned and looked at the blond, "Slingby why the fuck are you telling me this?" he asked in confusion, "My son has a phone, he should call me." Eric shrugged and looked at him, "Perhaps he," before he could say more he heard the familiar roar of a four wheeler and a shout of glee. Eric groaned and shook his head, riding on a bright red four wheeler was the familiar form of one Ronald Knox, the son of Harold Knox and soon to be dead son. Ronald continued up the hill and came to a stop, he grinned with glee as he took his goggles off and slipped on a pair of black glasses with large lenses. "Yo," he said with a grin, Harold glared at him and stormed away. Ronald's brows lifted as he pointed to his father, "What's his problem?" he asked in confusion. Eric sighed and looked at the blonde who was putting on a baseball cap and rolling up his sleeves, "I told him you were sick." Ronald was silent as he looked from Eric to his father's back. "I'm dead, aren't I?" he asked. All Eric could do was nod solemnly; Ronald nervously rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "And here I was thinking that today would be a good one."

* * *

**Translations:**

1) Apparently, the Englishman has made a reservation.

2) I booked a table two weeks ago for the event, it was paid.

3) See?

**Currency Conversions: **

4) Approximately $815 US or £500

5) Approximately $60 US or £50


End file.
